


tranquil

by Suicix



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Introspection, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-05-11 15:57:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5632477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suicix/pseuds/Suicix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, as absurd as it may sound, Heath actually wants to be <i>quiet</i>. Wade is the only person who seems to get that.</p>
<p>Set mid/late June 2014.</p>
            </blockquote>





	tranquil

**Author's Note:**

> the "mid/late june" in the summary literally just means some time after 12th june (the Terrible Day) and before wade got injured at the end of the month. oh boy that was just the Worst month........

Tranquil is not a word that one would use to describe Heath Slater.

He’s a bundle of energy, vibrant and frenzied. It’s a nice way for the world to see you, but if he for any reason just doesn’t feel like making a joke of something or doing something ridiculous to make everyone laugh (and to make a fool of himself in the process), it feels like the whole locker room’s suddenly at him for trying to take himself seriously for once.

_What’s wrong with you today? Take a joke, huh? You’re usually the one making them._

_That_ ’s what’s wrong – everybody asking him. Nobody seems to get the hint. He’d try to come back with some sort of threat – not a serious one, just saying that he wants to be left alone – but he’s pretty certain that would just get laughed at. He’s just pathetic to them after all, isn’t he? So good at selling the crap out of even the weakest of moves that it must be how he’d take a fight in real life.

He wants to jam his headphones in his ears and find the loudest, heaviest, angriest album on his iPod to drown out everyone and everything, but then people would start to assume he’s _angry_ and they’d bug him even more. Ginger hair has never done him any favours there.

He does it anyway, and when anybody even looks like they’re going to try and approach him, he shoots back with what he thinks is the kind of glare Wade looks at people with. He might not be as intimidating, but it seems to keep people away.

Where _is_ Wade, anyway? He’s usually at the arena by now. It just had to be today that they travelled here separately, just had to be today that Wade is later than usual, didn’t it? Had to be the day when Heath doesn’t want to even come into contact with anyone else but his boyfriend.

Or, anyone else who still works here, at least. He misses Drew and Jinder. They’d make things more bearable, or at least know to leave him alone until Wade shows up when he feels like this.

A win would make him feel better too, however unlikely that is at this point. He’s obviously used to being told he’s losing – hell, it’s practically his job: professional _loser_ – but on a bad day he can’t help but get his hopes up just a little that there’s the possibility of something cheering him up.

Apparently that isn’t today. It’s – it’s _OK_ , he swears it is. He wasn’t expecting it. He wasn’t even expecting a match in the first place. Doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.

Finally, Heath manages to find some empty space backstage where it seems unlikely that anybody’s going to come bothering him. The music’s still blaring in his ears at full volume, his is head in his hands, and he just wants his mind to clear of everything that isn’t the beat and the bassline and the bang of the drums.

He doesn’t realise there’s someone behind him until there’s a hand on his shoulder. Heath whirls around at the unexpected contact, just about ready to snap until he realises that it’s Wade who’s stood there, not quite smiling, and Heath hits _pause_.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” Wade tells him, taking the seat beside him. “What’s up, hm? You’re gonna kill your ears like that. When the music’s that loud and you’re just sat down instead of singing, it’s never a good sign.”

Heath just shrugs listlessly.

“Just been a rough day,” he mutters, leaning his head against Wade’s shoulder, and Wade wraps an arm around him. Already, it’s enough of a comfort that Heath can relax a little, nuzzling into Wade instinctively.

“Right,” Wade says, voice soft, though it hardens on the next sentence. “No-one’s been giving you a hard time though, have they?”

The answer is a shake of Heath’s head. No-one in particular, anyway. Besides, even if there _had_ been someone specific, it’s better not to tell Wade. He’d only make a scene of it, and while Wade intimidating people is usually very effective, Heath really does not want to be the subject of the rest of the locker room’s attention again today.

“Good. Won’t have to worry about anyone needing to be beat up except in my match tonight.”

Heath tries for a smile. “OK,” he says, relieved that Wade is just letting it go, not pressing him for more. “We can go straight back to the hotel tonight, right? I just… I ain’t feelin’ much up to going out.”

Wade squeezes Heath’s shoulder, presses a kiss to the top of his head.

“Of course we can. That’s absolutely fine. You’re OK, yeah?”

“I’m – yeah. I’m OK.”

He’s better, anyway. Better than earlier now that Wade’s here. Heath doesn’t feel truly OK until they’ve made it back to the hotel after the show, though – until he’s had a hot shower and can just relax in the warmth and comfort of Wade’s arms. Here, most of all, is where he feels at peace.


End file.
